Looking Out A Window
by SherlockedCastiel
Summary: After war broke out on Earth between Grounders and Arkers, the Griffins seeked shelter to escape death. 15 years later & sky-person Clarke is yet to be outside. But now her mom's gone missing and soon she may not have a choice. When Bellamy, a grounder warrior finds her, Clarke's only opinion is to bribe him to help her. But he soon finds himself intrigued by the llarke AU


The world descended into chaos once again when Clarke Griffin was 3 years old. Tribes joined forces against the sky people so their numbers were greater but it wasn't enough to win against the sky peoples advanced weapons so the battle continued. 15 years later and countless lives had been lost.

3000 sky people had soon over doubled with the alliances of Mount Weather and more accepting clans. Dozens of slaughters for bone marrow transfers had robbed grounders of their families. They didn't take the warriors, they took those left behind. This aided the battles blood-lust even further and made sure the grounders stopped at nothing to get revengeance of the victims the sky-people had taken.

When the sky people had fallen, they'd started taken land from the grounders. It had started small at first, they needed to grow their food and some clans were kind enough to give some of their less fertile land up, but as soon as they realized there was better land that the grounders were keeping they soon began to fight over it. The grounders were also hostile to the sky-people, refusing to share their resources and attacking them with any excuse. The first few years the two mixed were bad enough, but eventually it turned out to be simply tension building.

The first war was fought between a group of sky people who attempted to crop down trees in grounder territory. The battles spiraled out of control and soon new tribes were being called to fight.

Those who chose now to fight were at risk from both groups, but weren't called into battle. Some people preferred this life, mostly on the run, to the fear of war.

Two of these people who preferred this life were Abby and Jake Griffin. Two leaders from the sky who wanted nothing more than to explore the earth and see what it had to offer but somehow got roped into become chancellors. Both had played crucial roles in getting the whole population of the Ark down to earth.

Abby Griffin had been only been a month pregnant when she dropped to the earth, and her daughter, Clarke was born on the earth. It was exactly what the Griffin's could have wanted for their daughter. What they didn't want was for wars that they couldn't stop to break out when Clarke was only 3. They were part of the group who tried to communicate with the grounders, and their names had gotten out. Soon grounders were offering rewards to the leaders of the sky people who given permission for the murders to take place, something that had nothing to do with Abby and Jake.

Scared for their daughters life the two fled as far as they could in hopes of giving Clarke her best chance. It was over 2 months of running and hiding before they found an old military base located in a cliff face. Just one small window to look out of as they watched the world they'd wanted to love start to crumble.

The base itself was well hidden and fine to live in. Plenty of supplies like blankets and fabric had been left, clearly somebody had tried to settle there before, along with candles, utensils, a few weapons and Clarke's favorite, enough paper and pencils to last a lifetime. They were obviously used for planning put they were good for Clarke. There were storage closets full of things the family could use and they made use.

Jake or Abby only went out when it was essential but they stayed away for days at a time to collect as much food as they could. They'd managed to make alliance with a few sky people tribes (It was sensible to have all the sky people together as it was too easy to attack) within a few miles who gave them food that wouldn't go off.

Luckily, one of the perks of radiation was that the rays were able to preserve food. Irradiation of food kills the microbes that cause it to spoil, and over time this allowed food to stay fresh for much longer than the older days as no microbes could live in them. It was a technique they'd used on the Ark as best as they could, but on each it worked wonders and probably saved the lives of the Griffin family. They only had to go out of the base for 3 days once a month. They took it in turns.

When Clarke was 12 she started to ask questions about going outside. She'd been being trained since she was 5 to be able to defend herself, how to kill and cook an animal and how to reduce the smoke it produced. Every survival skill she would need to survive on the outside had been repeated to her almost every day until she started to question if she'd ever use it. She wasn't allowed to even step out of the base.

Her parents tried to avoid the questions. Of course they'd told her of why they had to hide and of why she had to kept inside, but she wasn't satisfied with the child likes being told they can't leave the house, and this was no exception. But she didn't try and sneak out because she trusted her parents and loved them very much. When she was 18 they told her she could help them with the supply run. Only 6 more years. But she wanted it to be faster. She didn't truly see the danger.

Not until 3 years later.

Clarke was fasinated by the outside world so much she'd spend hours just say by the window looking out. It was only small and circular, barely visible from the outside so it was perfect. Clarke stared at the grass she'd couldn't remember running on and the trees she longed to climb. Everything about the outside world screamed freedom to her and she loved it.

In this instanced she was keeping look out for her father. He was 8 hours overdue to be home but this wasn't unusual. Sometimes trade took longer and sometimes the travelling got interupted. Her mother was sewing yet again. Clarke grew out of her clothes so quickly now that new ones needed to be fashioned all the time. Clarke was okay to do it herself, but her mother used it as a calming exercise and a way to pass the time. Clarke just read the books her parents had stolen and collected over the years. They may have lost a lot when the two had come to earth, but their love of literature had not been one of them. People were more than happy to give up books for some food, and the Griffins were the best at catching it.

As Clarke stared at the window she kept an eye out for any animals she could see as they were rare in these secluded parts, when something caught her eye. At first she'd thought it was an animal as it was covered in fur but she realized quickly it was a person. And they were chasing something.

The something was diving in and out of trees as quickly as possible, clearly trying to avoid being seen. Clarke soon recognised her father and in fear called her mother to the window. Fear washed over her mothers face the moment she saw the scene. The man in fur had a weapon.

Abby grabbed a gun to protect her husband and demanded her child get away from the window and stay inside no matter what. Clarke obeyed and crawled into the hiding space she got told she should go to in a time like this. She listened but heard nothing but her own fast breathing.

She remained frozen in her hiding place behind a removed metal panel in the wall. They'd found a hidden storage cupboard ages ago but had fitted in out so Clarke could hide. It was near impossible to spot, but right now Clarke wasn't scared for herself. She was scared for her parents.

Her heart stopped when she heard a scream and a single gunshot. Tears streamed down the teenagers face as she feared the worst for her parents and she clung to herself, too paralysed from fear to run and see what had happened. She stayed for a few moments until she heard somebody come into the room, but her mum called out to her before she grabbed for her knife.

Her mother calmly explained that the man was dead, but so was Clarke's father. Mourning of his life didn't cease for months, his missing presence a constant reminder of what had happened. The supply runs Abby had to take were forced to be more careful, lasting for at least a week. In this time Clarke would do nothing but chores, draw and spend her time considering sneaking out.

When Clarke turned 18, her mother had been gone for 12 days already. She'd left with the promise of returning at least 3 days before it so they could celebrate it together with plenty of food. Since she hated leaving Clarke alone she always returned on time. And she never liked giving Clarke a reason to worry.

All the nightmares Clarke had had about being alone in this base were looking like nothing as the realization that her mother may be dead started to dawn on the new adult. She'd stay in this base alone forever if it meant her mother would be alive, even separated from her.

As Clarke ate some food left over from the previous night she looked through her journal at the sketches she had of her parents. The ones of her father were worse, but she'd only been 11 or 12 when she'd done most of them. Her mothers was better quality but Clarke remembered how difficult it had been as her mother hadn't stayed still. However it wasn't the worst picture in the world and right now it brought some comfort to Clarke.

She stared out the window until her eyes started to feel heavy and decided that in the dark it wasn't much good to look out the window anyway. She crawled into her bed putting on her usual night gear, and rested, cocooning herself in her blankets in order to keep herself warm.

Clarke's eyes snapped open the moment she heard movement and her hand clasped around the dagger she has hidden under her pillow. In among the darkness she could see a huge figure moving around in the base. She stopped breathing.

The man was looking at the blankets at the other side of the room so Clarke risked sitting up slowly in her bed, ready to run at him. She could see a tattoo down his arm so he was a grounder. Sky people never got tattoos. Readjusting her feet in the bed ready to charge Clarke had never been so scared she was shaking. The man luckily hadn't turned.

Suddenly Clarke tensed out of fear when the man drew a blade from his side and the bed creaked. The man snapped around as Clarke drew in a sharp breath. He made a growling sound in the back of his throat and moved towards Clarke who, pretty much powerless without the element of surprise, raised her dagger.

She heard a loud step behind the man as he stopped dead in his tracks. He slumped forward allowing Clarke to see what forced the man to stop.

A second grounder stood behind the man, pulling a bloody blade from behind the shoulder blades. When it was out the first grounder slumped to the ground and Clarke bit her lip to stop her from screaming. The grounder was staring at her, looking furious. Clarke decided running for it would be the best option as the man steadied himself and took a step forward. She dashed forward and around him, baring her dagger towards him in defense. The grounder barely moved.

Clarke realised she couldn't get out the door to get within reaching distance and felt sick. The grounder took a pace towards her and she picked up a log from the pile beside her. She doubted it could do much good even if she got close. Another step and he looked much more intimidating. Clarke figured it was now or not at all so she lunged forward and struck the man on the top of his head and he fell to the floor like a brick.

Clarke allowed herself to make a sound as she breathed out but the relief lasted barely 5 seconds. There was a dead grounder to one side of her and an unconscious one on her other.

Clarke knew she'd never have the guts to kill the grounder, not unless she had to so she needed a solution. He'd seen where the base was.

She fetched some rope and some chains that looked strong enough to hold him. She tried desperately to recall what her father had taught her about knots and hoped they worked for hostage situations as well as manual work. She'd been told they were strong.

She struggled pulling him up so he was attached to a bed frame for a bunk bed. The thing was too heavy for Clarke to even move so she hoped it would be alright to hold him.

The chains went around his wrists and a separate one wrapped around his ankles. Clarke used the rope to go around his stomach and around the bed too, then finished it by putting another rope to attach the chains together. She hoped it would be enough.

The deceased grounder was more difficult. She hauled him up and put him in the storage space on the other side of the base, hoping to forget about him. She felt so guilty looking at him, and she allowed herself a shed a single tear befor panic set in and she stopped herself from getting too upset. She feared if she got upset now the entire thing would hit her and she's probably breakdown.

She sat opposite the grounder who hadn't awoken yet and observed him. His hair was matted black and messy, clearly too long to be kept under control. His face was covered in war paint but he looked young, perhaps a few years older than Clarke, but it was hard to tell. The charcoal markings around his eyes which had clearly now spread which was a sign of a grounder warrior. The visible parts of his skin was heavily freckled and he had a strong looking jaw but a slightly pointed chin. The eyes were closed but the lashes were long and remained pitch black due to the paint. He was in full grounder gear from what Clarke could tell, dark colours of thick fabric and leather armour clearly made for on foot battle so running and lots of movement. He looked tall and muscular, even slumped down which worried Clarke to her core. She couldn't take this man on if she tried. That didn't mean she wouldn't help him though.

Grabbing a cloth and a bowl of fresh water from their rain collection tap, Clarke cautiously approached the grounder. If she was too rough she'd probably put him in a bad mood when he woke up. Although she assumed being tied up would anger him more. She just needed to buy her time until her mother came home. She would know what to do.

Carefully she dampened the cloth and started to wash the black off his face. It appeared he'd been sweating so the paint was running from its already messy appearance. Slowly she cleaned him and exposed more and more flesh. Mostly freckled flesh too. He didn't seem quite so frightening with his paint disappearing or when he was unconscious. Clarke preferred it.

She grabbed a new cloth to clean his wound which she was feeling slightly bad for giving him. It was a shallow gash surrounded by slowly appearing bruises and redness. She could feel a bump.

Searching for the first aid box to fix it the best she could, Clarke heard a grunt. She tensed, scared witless. She could hear weak attempts as escaping the chains and she prepared herself to hide if she heard him get out but it seemed he'd given up.

She turned the corner and he caught a glimpse of her. He wasn't protesting the chains anymore but he didn't look happy, particularly at her approaching him with a first aid kit. The contents scavenged from over the years.

"I'm sorry. I assume you're going to kill me so I couldn't allow that to happen. But I'm going to help you now." Clarke slowly approached and he started to strain against the chains and rope. Clarke felt good that they both kept firm.

"I'm going to help...wait. ai laik a fisa." 'I'm a healer.' was a phrase she knew how to say and it seemed to calm with down.

He stopped protesting and instead remained dead still she took his as permission to help. She was worried about her Trigedasleng as she didn't speak it very well but it seemed he didn't speak English.

They wound was cleaned pretty easily and the stranger didn't move once. He didn't even flinch. Clarke wondered if stitches would be a good idea but it didn't look deep enough to worry. She rubbed some alcohol on the cut, impressed by his pain tolerance. She'd seen her mother doing this on her father and vise versa maybe a dozen times and they always complained or at least flinched. She used a bandage to wrap around his head to keep it clean and backed away quickly.

"There. That's better." His intense stare didn't falter and it was starting to freak her out.

"You're probably thirsty. I'll get you some water?" She got no reply. With shaking hands from the lasting shock of the situation she collected some more water into a metal cup and took it to him. From what she hoped was a safe distance she brought the cup to his lips which parted willingly and she slowly tipped the water into his mouth. He drank for a few moments and Clarke forgot she was controlling it. She slipped the water that was left tipped down his chin and all down his neck and chest.

"Oh no, I'm sorry!" She grabbed a blanket but froze as she thought she'd spotted the grounder with a small smile on his face. Couldn't be. She wiped up the water as best as she could and even pulled his shirt down a little to wipe his chest.

Her attention was drawn to a small singe mark on the top left of his chest. Not thinking she moved her hand and traced the line with her finger wondering about its origin. She snapped out of it as she spotted the man's face move for one of the first times.

"Sorry..." She said in barely a mutter and moved away, figuring a little water wouldn't kill him if she left it there. "What is it?" He remained silent which Clarke found to be unsettling.

"no gonasleng?" She thought that meant no english, but he didn't register it so she assumed she was wrong. She had no hands-on experience with the language. She had to go by what her parents had picked up over their time with the grounders. Sadly in their experience there wasn't a lot of talking, just battles.

"I won't keep you very long, I promise." Clarke continued anyway, feeling a little of the guilt wear off as she explained herself, even if he couldn't understand. "I think I have to wait until my mother gets home. Then we can figure this out together. Don't worry, she'll help. We'll probably just leave this place." Clarke swallowed, glancing at the window which was still dark. It couldn't be more than half way through the night considering how early Clarke had tried to sleep because of the worrying.

"I'll like that. I've never been outside." She said wistfully, more to herself than him. "I don't know what grass feels like, or know what it's like to have the sun soak through into my skin. I've never floated in water, or breathed air that hasn't come through a vent. Not that I can remember anyway." She realised she was thinking out loud and the grounder was staring at her, listening.

"You killed the grounder who was coming for me." She commented but got no reaction. "In a way, you saved my life. I'm sorry I've repaid you by tying you up. But then again you probably only did it so you could kill me." She sighed at the complications of the situation. "When my mum gets back. I'll let you go." She wished she could now. Just have him leave so she could return to her normal life where there wasn't a dead man lying in the room. But she couldn't risk what he would do if he escaped. She couldn't risk mistaking his calmness for understanding.

"How does it feel? Painful?" She asked and approached him again. His time he moved his head forward, willingly offering for her to have a look at his head. She peeled back the bandage and looked to see how it was. What she would have expected. Clarke caught his eye and his flickered to the side of her head. She turned to see what he was looking at. The water.

"Do you want some more?" She asked and to her surprise he gave a small, barely noticeable nod of the head. She wanted to smile but didn't think it would be appropriate. She fetched the water and poured it slowly into his mouth again until it was all gone.

"Better?" And he gave the small nod again. "You do understand me!" She couldn't help but burst out.

"I'm Clarke." She said, deciding this was as gooder time as any to introduce herself. Maybe he would do the same. She awaited his answer but it didn't seem like he was going to give her one. Turning to put the cup behind her, she tried to mask her disappointment. Honestly it was strange how excited she'd been as the prospect of a new person to talk with. The third person in her entire life.

"Bellamy." He spoke from behind her and she whipped her head around to see if she'd been imagining it.

"What did you say?" She asked in shock.

"My name is Bellamy."


End file.
